


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by Musicgirlie97



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-11 07:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musicgirlie97/pseuds/Musicgirlie97
Summary: Sherlock and John go undercover at a local gym, where they unexpectedly bump into a dear friend. The two men also discover a jaw-dropping secret about said friend. Two-shotPost-HLV/Series 4 Never Existed AU





	1. Chapter 1

“Is that him?”

“No.”

“Him?”

“No, John, shut up.”

“I’ll shut up when it’s damn time to leave already!" 

Sherlock rolls his eyes and turns to John. “For God’s sake, be quiet! It’s only been two hours!” He snaps. John glares at Sherlock before turning back to stare at the front entrance of the gym across the street. 

Currently, Sherlock and John were sitting at an outdoor table of a coffee shop. The same table they been waiting at to stakeout a man who was suspected of laundering money for his steroid addiction. John was at his rope’s end from hours of sitting in the blistering cold and from the intrusive git in his company.

Also, it doesn’t help that the two of them were wearing thin exercise clothing in this horrible weather. As soon as this is over, John already had plans of going straight home to sit down in front of a nice, warm, crackling fire.

“It’s been four hours, just so you know, and we haven’t seen any change or any sign of the bloke!” John hoarsely whispered to Sherlock. He grabbed his lukewarm coffee and took a long swing.

“Patience, John. He will be here, so just stay quiet. It’s not like you have anywhere important to be.” Sherlock said as he looks back at the gym.

“Nowhere to be?! I have a pregnant wife at home waiting for me!” John snaps, slamming his coffee back on the table. Mary was due any week now, and he wanted to be there in case anything might happen. Why was he even here, damn it? 

“Because you and I both know you missed this thrill.” Sherlock smugly answered without looking at him. John growled a bit under his breath. He hates it when he’s right.

John turns back to watch the entrance, but his mind begins to wander about other things.

After “Moriarty” has come back from the dead and after the whole exile matter, he could tell that Sherlock has been on edge. Usually a case like this wouldn’t interest Sherlock. If the case didn’t have murder, there was no point in taking it.

But with all of the drama that has been occurring lately, he’s been taking any and every case that falls into his lap. John chalks that up to the frustration of having no leads on Moriarty’s comeback. John was worried about his friend and will always be grateful for the sacrifice he made for him and his family. He just wishes he knew what to do to help him calm down.

“John, snap out of it! There he is!” Sherlock whispered loudly. 

John jerked out of his thoughts as he became aware of a tall, burly man making his way to the gym. The man had a giant duffel bag in his hands, but it didn’t look like the normal standard size for a workout session at the gym.

Sherlock and John waited silently until the man walked in. After another three minutes, Sherlock jumps up from his seat and races across the street.

“Wait, Sherlock!” John said as he quickly followed him. As John caught up with Sherlock, they came to a stop in front of the gym. “Okay, John. Our suspect is meeting his dealer to get a new shipment of steroids.” Sherlock said as he moves a card in front of a scanner. John doesn’t question how he manage to get it, but just listens to the lock of the door click. “Remember to keep your distance and don’t cause him to feel suspicious.” John nods at his instructions as they make their way inside.

The gym was a very considerable size, John noticed. There was the main floor which held all of the standard equipment like treadmills, elliptical trainers, and bikes. There were kettlebells, arm weights, and medicine balls positioned against one of the walls, and a section of the floor was reserved for weightlifting and bench-pressing with different weight varieties. A set of stairs led up to another floor, but John didn’t know what it could lead to though. He mused that it was probably a pool or a basketball court. 

Sherlock and John walked onto the main floor where the suspect was having a whispered conversation with another man. Sherlock walked towards the weights as John made his way to the equipment. 

As John walked on a treadmill, he watched the two men from the corner of his eye. Their nervous and twitchy suspect gives the bag to the dealer. The dealer looks inside the bag, gives a pleased nod, and hands a slip of paper towards their suspect. As soon as he got the paper, the suspect took off towards the back of the gym. The dealer throws the bag over his shoulder and heads towards the exit.

John stops the treadmill and walked towards Sherlock, who was putting his phone back in his trousers’ pocket. “Got pictures of the exchange, he’s heading towards the locker rooms.” Sherlock said as he ran towards the lockers. John sighed and followed along.

The men quietly entered the men’s lockers and heard the cluttering of a lock being unlocked. They stealthily moved towards the sound.

Sherlock stopped behind some lockers and peeked his head around the corner. He saw their suspect at an open locker with another giant bag inside. The suspect took out the bag, opened it, and gave a moan of relief at whatever was in it.

Sherlock got out his phone and took pictures of the idiot taking out the steroid bottles to look at them, as if to make sure he wasn’t robbed of his purchase.

Satisfied with the evidence, Sherlock looked at John and mouthed to him that they needed to leave. “That was too easy,” Sherlock said as he and John got outside of the lockers and stood to a stop. John rolled his eyes. “Can we leave now?” John said gruffly.

“Yeah, let me just send the pictures to Gavin.” 

John sighed. “It’s Greg, but fine.” John crossed his arms and waited for Sherlock to finish his texting.

John doesn’t know how the noise got his attention, but he heard another door opening and instinctively looked towards it. He was more than surprised at what he found.

There in front of the women’s locker room was little Molly Hooper in a purple sports bra, a tight pair of powder-pink workout shorts, and a pair of trainers on her small feet. She was carrying a small gym bag with a water-bottle in one of the pockets, and a small towel laid across her shoulder.

John’s jaw dropped as he looked at her. He had not seen her since that morning when he found Sherlock in that drug den. That was about eight months ago, and during that time, John guesses Molly had been busy at the gym.

Her body was taut, but not overly muscular. Her breasts were firmer and perky, and the curves of her body are now significantly prominent. John tried not to stare down farther towards her firmer and rounder behind, but it was impossible to not notice it. As he thought about it, John never noticed the length of Molly’s legs as they were always covered up by baggy trousers and long skirts, but her legs were tremendously long for a woman of her height. Not to mention, they were also as toned and smooth looking as the rest of her body. 

John, not taking his eyes off her, hits Sherlock in the arm abruptly. “What, John?” Sherlock said annoyed. John wordlessly pointed towards Molly. With his brows furrowed, Sherlock looked at what he was pointing at, and his eyes went wide as his jaw joined John’s on the floor. 

Molly didn’t seem to notice her friends as she looked towards her watch and hastily made her way towards the main floor.

John laughed with amazement. “Wow, never would expect Molly as a gym ty-Wait, Sherlock!”

John snapped as Sherlock rushed after Molly. John followed him, and both saw Molly climbed the stairs to the second floor. Molly opens the double doors before disappearing behind them.

Sherlock doesn’t say a word for a moment, then he actively rushes towards the stairs. John shakes his head in disbelief. He wanted to spy on Molly now? What the hell?

John joins Sherlock as both enter the second floor, and it was revealed that the floor was a boxing gym. There was a row of punching bags, exercise mats on the floor, and a huge boxing rink in the center.

John looked to see Molly sitting at a metal bench. He saw that she was holding some sort of white tape. He watched as she started to wrap it around one of her hands.

John gave a quiet startled yelp as Sherlock pulled on him to hide behind the punching bags. Sherlock carefully peeked his head out to spy on Molly.

“Sherlock, why are we here? We already got what we needed!” John whispered. Sherlock ignored him as he stared at Molly, who had taken off her shoes and was now taping her feet.

John was about to tell Sherlock that they needed to leave, when a voice yelled out, “Hey Molls! You’re late!”

John looked to see a tall, brawny man with a head guard on and tape wrapped around his hands as well. He walked towards Molly with a big smile, while Molly smiled back just as big. “I know! I’m so sorry, Stan! My shift ran longer than I thought it would.” She stood up when she was done taping her feet. “No problem at all, Molls. You ready?” he said as he pointed toward the rink. “Yep!” Molly laughed as she rushed towards the rink.

Stan laughed as he walked towards the rink as well. “No head guard?” he teased as he made way onto the rink. “As always!” Molly said happily. He let out another laugh as she gave a cheeky smile towards him.

John tore his gaze from the two and notices Sherlock started to grip the punching bag tightly, his gaze on Molly unwavering.

John looks back and watched the two do some basic stretches for about two minutes before each got into a defensive fight position. “Ready?” he asked Molly. “Bring it.” She said.

Stan nods as he took a deep breath. John watches as he tries to give a quick jab at Molly’s face, but Molly quickly ducks to the side before he could. She quickly flicks her elbow up and lands a blow straight into his nose, and he stepped back in surprise.  As he bends down in pain, Molly then quickly spun her upper body to the floor and balances herself as she raises her leg to deliver a swift kick to the side of his head. Stan grunted as he fell to the floor before picking himself back up. Molly jumps back onto her feet and uses her arm to block another punch from Stan.

John was in astonishment as he watched Molly. She was fighting a man twice her size and five seconds in, she already landed two blows! Where did these skills come from? He heard a breathless gasp and looked to Sherlock, gazing at Molly as she sparred.

John furrowed in brows in question before he moved his eyes back at Molly.

Stan seemed to have taken another blow when John was distracted, as he was grabbing his side with a grimace. Molly jumped up and down on the balls of her feet, ready for his next blow.

Stan then brings his leg up to kick her, but Molly grabs it and throws it back to the floor. As Stan take two steps back and bends his knees to regain his balance, Molly runs towards him and jumps on his bent leg. She quickly wraps her thighs around his neck before she spins and uses her body to flip him straight onto the floor. Stan grunts as he lands on his back as Molly lands back on her feet.

John didn’t know it was possible for his jaw to drop farther than it already has as he witnessed that last move.

Stan grunts and gives a pained laugh. “Are you ever going to take it easy on me, Molls?” 

“Sorry, Stan Man, but not today!” She says as she helps him up to his feet. Both bumped their fists together before moving back into their defensive poses.

John gave out a laugh of disbelief. Who was this girl? He knew that Molly has gotten out of her shell when Sherlock came back from his fake death. Hell, those slaps she gave Sherlock were proof of that.

But this? He never expected sweet, little Molly to be such a powerful fighter. Emotionally and mentally strong, never any doubt about it, but physically? Not even in his wildest dreams.

John’s thoughts were broken as Sherlock suddenly raced out of the gym without the two sparring partners knowing, and he followed after him.

“Whoa, Sherlock! Wait up!” John said as he ran after him. Sherlock didn’t slow down though, nor did he stop until he exited the gym and makes his way onto the sidewalk, looking around franticly. John skids to a stop as he grabs Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“Would you stop running off like that, you arsehole?!” Sherlock growls as he shakes John’s hand off. John looks at him in shock. “What is your problem?”

Sherlock shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before he calls for a cab. “Get your own, this one is mine.” He snaps as the cab comes to a stop in front of him and gets inside without another word to John. 

John watches as the cab drives away, confusion filling his head. What was that about? He was fine before…Oh. 

John looks towards the gym and back at Sherlock’s fading cab. Looks like John isn’t the only one thrown off by the mystery of Molly Hooper’s newfound hobby. Seems that Sherlock doesn’t like being in the dark about people’s lives, but what Molly does in her free time is none of his business! Impossible man. 

John does know one thing though as he gets out his phone to call Mary.

If he even needs help in a fight, he’ll pick Molly as his second in command.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after Sherlock discovers Molly's hobby, they meet at St Bart's. It doesn't go well at first.

Oddly enough, Molly was in a great mood right now.

She would think that being on a twelve-hour shift on a Friday night would dampen her day, but really, she doesn't have it in her to be grouchy.

In fact, she has an extra pep in her step as she walks down the corridor of the first floor, heading towards her office. Even the paperwork that she knows is waiting for her downstairs isn't going to ruin her night.

Her usual schedule throughout the day was wake up at the crack of dawn, go for a forty-minute run, eat breakfast, clean house, read and relax with Toby, then head to the gym for some weightlifting and sparring with Stan. After those tasks, she came home, bathe, took a nice long nap, and headed to work, with time to spare to grab some coffee for her favorite shop.

Overall, it's been a very lovely day. "As Elle Woods said, 'Exercise makes endorphins. Endorphins make you happy!'" Molly giggles to herself as she spots the lift.

"Hey Molly!" a voice called out.

Molly turns around to see Rick, a resident physician on call, wave at her before heading over her way. She mentally sighed as he walks over. Ever since she got into better shape, she has been getting more attention from the opposite sex then she did before. Surprisingly, even with baggy clothing, men seem to have a sense of knowing what's underneath her blouse.

Molly felt a sting of irritation. She wishes that men would see her for her brain rather than her body. Her confidence in herself has become higher, and she values herself more in her skills and looks. But she didn't get in shape to turn heads, she got into shape because of she was tired of being a doormat for a certain detective. Hell, she was tired of being a doormat in general.

If it isn't Sherlock who wants something, she would get take advantage of by her colleagues, her boss, and even some of her friends.

After Sherlock left that morning, babbling on about "the best news" and his jab at her failed engagement with Tom, she was finally determined to move on. If he was just going to throw himself off the deep end and hurt his friends, then that's his problem. She was done.

A week after Sherlock's appearance, she had told an associate about wanting to find a new hobby. The associate, a wonderfully kind nurse named Amy, told Molly about a self-defense class down at her gym and invited her along to check it out.

It was there that Molly had found a shocking love and a remarkable talent for kickboxing and mixed martial arts. It made her feel dynamic and strong with the added perk of building muscle and getting toned.

But more importantly, she felt like she could take care of herself if anything was to happen. Since clearly, Sherlock didn't care to keep an eye on her. She got that confirmation when he didn't tell her about his exile and when he didn't even check on her after the "Moriarty" broadcast.

She now knew that her worth to Sherlock Holmes was the equivalent to gum on the bottom of his shoe, and that knowledge hurts to think about; however, it is what it is.

Molly came back to earth when she heard her name being called again.

"Are you okay, Molly?" Rick asked with concern. Molly just gave a slight smile.

"I'm fine, thank you. Uh, Rick, right?"

"Yeah! Sorry I haven't really introduced myself, I never really come down to the morgue."

Okay, but she does appear in the cafeteria too. She had seen him there many times before, she even made eye contact with him on some occasions.

"It's fine, I guess. Uh, do you need something?"

"Yes, actually. I need a date tomorrow night at Rook's. I was hoping to take you." He slyly says before he winked at her.

She mentally gags at the pick-up line. Good god, did he think he was smooth? She was about to politely decline the offer before a pair of large hands grasped her shoulders.

"Yes, Mick, instead of flirting with the next woman that walks down the hallway, you could check on the next horse race you've betted on this morning. Hopefully you've won or else your debt is going to be even worse than it already is."

Molly froze at the deep voice. What the hell was he doing here?

Rick frowned at Sherlock who intensely glared back as he kept his hold on Molly. "Who the hell are you?"

"If you look more at local news rather than pornography on your phone, you would know who I am." Sherlock stated smugly.

Rick's face turns red from anger and embarrassment before glancing at Molly then back at Sherlock. He gave out an irritated click of his tongue before turning away abruptly and stomping down the hall.

Sherlock smirked as he walked away, tightening his grip on Molly. Molly clenched her fists and yanked herself out of his hold. "I didn't need your help." She states with a cold attitude. Sherlock's smirk is wiped away, and she thought she saw a glimpse of hurt in his eyes.

But his face morphs into his blank, condescending manner. "Well, you are not the best with men, Molly. That track record speaks for itself." He stated coldly back.

Molly gritted her teeth as she goes towards the lift without giving him another word. She mashes the down button and impatiently taps her feet while she waits for the lift. Sherlock moves beside her as she waits, and she wonders why the hell was he still here.

"I'm not giving you any body parts, so don't bother asking," she says without looking at him. He scoffs at her command.

"I thought you would want to help me with my experiments. Whatever happened to work first Molly?

She turns to him with fire in her eyes. "So that's it? No communication for eight months and all you want is a freaking pinky toe? You haven't changed at all, have you?" she snaps.

Sherlock raises his eyebrows in surprise at her tone before glaring back at her. "But it seems that you have though, haven't you? It's more important to find a male escort and please all the men in the hospital. I'm surprise you haven't decided to start wearing mini-skirts and low-cut tops." He spat back.

Molly's blood runs cold at his comment. "What did you just say to me?"

"I guess all that primping has affected your awareness, Molly. My advice to you would be to get back to focusing on your work rather than waste time on wondering when the next man might come. It's a bit desperate considering the fact that you're not getting any younger. Are you afraid that the marriage train is leaving the station? If so, maybe you should have married Tom when you had the chance."

Molly didn't really know how the next ten seconds happened.

In the middle of his painful rant, the lift finally came. But as soon as the doors had opened, and Sherlock gave his last jab, Molly didn't even think about her reaction.

She swung her fist straight into his nose and felt the bone crunch beneath her fingers. Her hand screamed in pain as Sherlock fell backwards fast into the lift. He clutched his nose as blood gushed down his chin and gave out a groan of pain.

Molly stood there frozen, ignoring her hand's plead to be soothe. She gaped at Sherlock as he grabbed onto the bar of the lift to bring himself back on his feet. What did she just do?

He looked at her with wide eyes, also astounded at her reaction. Molly felt her eyes prickle with upcoming tears before she quickly turned away and raced towards the entrance.

"Molly, wai-" he started to say, but she heard the lift doors close with him still inside. Whatever, she didn't care. She just kept her eyes on the doors and started her goal of getting away from Sherlock Holmes. And she knew the place to go.

* * *

After calling and lying to Mike about a last-minute family emergency, Molly was now back at the gym. She changed into an extra pair of clothes she had in her locker, and she taped up her hands and feet.

She was currently beating the hell out of one of the punching bags, not caring that not twenty minutes ago, she had punched her old crush in the face. Actually, that was a lie, two lies. She did care tremendously, and he wasn't just an old crush.

Molly just kept hitting the bag over and over. She blocked out the world, she blocked out the pain in her hand that still stings, and she blocked out the situation she had created.

And with one last punch, Molly stops to catch her breath. She grabs each side of the bag and leans forward to rest her forehead on it. The cool leather contrasted with the heat and sweat of her skin.

Molly closed her eyes and swallows the lump in her throat as she thinks back on Sherlock's words. How could he speak that lowly about her? What has she done to provoke such awful accusations? She clutched the bag in her hands as a sob escapes her.

Damn it, she thought she finally had herself together. For the first time in her life, she felt like she could make it. But Sherlock has to pull the rug from underneath her feet every single damn time.

She gave out another sob before she lifts her head and walks over to the bench to grab her towel. Molly picks it up and wipes the sweat and tears off her face before she shakes her head.

Why couldn't Sherlock just let her be? She buries her face into the towel and more heart-breaking sobs escape her. Why?

She drops down to the floor on her knees and just cries and cries. Then she heard the doors open.

She looks over to see Sherlock in his usually Belstaff coat and suit with a binding on his nose and bruising under his eyes. She wipes her eyes as she spins away from him on the ground, and more tears escape.

Molly hears him sigh, and soon he sits behind her. She moves up away from him as she moves her legs in front of her and wraps her arms around them.

Silence beats for a few minutes before Sherlock speaks. "P-please forgive me. What I said was…uncalled for on many terms." He said.

Molly swallows. "Yes, it was." The response came out more poignant than she wanted, and her heart broke even more. She still doesn't turn to face him.

"You are brilliant, Molly. I never meant any of those words. I'm so sorry."

Molly grips her legs tighter. "Why say them then? I haven't spoken or seen you in less than eight months, and that's what you say to me?"

"I saw you here last week."

That response surprised her. She finally turns and faces him with a raised eyebrow. He looked at her with an intense look that made her stomach flutter.

"I was undercover with John on a case, and we saw you." He swallowed as he looks away sheepishly. "We saw you spar with that man, Tan or something."

"You mean Stan?"

"Yes, and um, I was stunned at your performance."

Molly flushed when she remembered the fight. "Surprised that little Mousey Hooper can actually fight?" She asked with a slight hurt tone.

Sherlock quickly snapped his head back to look at her. "No! No, I mean, I was amazed by it."

"Yeah, well I didn't get into shape to get amazement from people. I did it to better myself." She looked away from him.

More silence passes by before he speaks again. "I was also frustrated and angry." She looks at him with confusion.

He clears his throat. "The way you interact with Stan made me angry. He was seeing a side of you I wasn't the first to see. You were so…carefree and happy." He smiled a sad smile. "I never really gave you that feeling, did I?"

Molly felt her heart crack a little. "No, you did actually." Sherlock looks at her with wonder.  
"That day when we went case-solving together. I really liked that day." She smiled a faint smile at the memory of that day.

She suddenly felt his hand grab hers before he continued. "I was also somewhat hurt," he said. "Why?" She licks her lips. Sherlock's eyes followed her tongue as it swipes across and the grip on her hand gets tighter.

"I'm a protector. I protected John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade the day of the fall, and I protected John and Mary the day I shot Magnussen." He said.

A shiver went up Molly's spine. She remembers the day when Greg told her about the exile and the reason it behind it. It killed her to hear what had happened.

"I never had a reason to protect you because you never had a target painted on your back. And when I saw you fight, I thought that you didn't need me to help you."

She closed her eyes. "I'm not a damsel in distress, Sherlock."

He laughs softly. "No, you're not. You're the farthest thing from it."

She opens her eyes to see him staring at her with a loving look that almost made the tears come back. "And why were you frustrated?"

Sherlock blinked before a bit of red splashed his cheeks. "Molly, I was _frustrated_." Molly looked at him with more confusion before it clicked.

"Oh." Molly squeaked as her face turned bright red. She heard him chuckle before suddenly she was lifted and place into his lap. Her head was tucked underneath his chin, and his arms were wrapped tightly around her.

Molly listened to the sound of his pulse as she inhaled his scent. "I should have told you about the exile, and I should have been there when the fake 'Moriarty' thing happened. I'm very sorry about that as well." He said as he brushed his fingers softly down her back.

"That wasn't fair, Sherlock. But, thank you," she says as she pulls her head back to look him in the eye.

He smiles, but it turns into a grimace as his nose throbbed. A pit of guilt explodes in her stomach. "D-did I break it?"  
"Yep, right on impact."

She gives a grimace herself. "I'm so sorry, Sherlock." He shakes his head. "Don't be. I deserved it. But I will say it's an interesting experience when you're hurt and aroused at the same time." He smirked slyly.

Molly's stomach felt like boiling lava and she looks down. "I-I, um, I-I'm sure tha-at, that woman m-made you f-feel better." God, she hated the stuttering. She feels his hands grasp her face and moves her face back up.

"Not really. She was interesting, yes. But nothing like you, Molly Hooper." His velvet voice whispered.

Molly was suddenly aware of her attire at the moment and popped up from the floor. "I don't think this is the right time for that." She said rapidly as she brings her towel up to her chest to gain a little bit more of modesty.

Sherlock stares at her from below before he slowly gets up from the ground as well. Molly and he make eye contact before he grabs her face again.

Sherlock then softly places his lips on top of hers for a few seconds before withdrawing. Molly fluttered her eyelashes and pecks his lips slyly.

He growls deeply. "You know what's going to happen once this nose starts to heal, Molly?"

She swallowed. "A little bit." He smirks darkly before he grabs her hand and drags her to the doors.

"You're wrong you know? I still need you despite what you think." Molly says softly.

He stops and faces her. "And I need you more than you'll ever know, Molly." He says as he wraps an arm around her waist.

Molly smiles before she grabs her things and they both make their way to the exit.

"Think you can handle me, Sherlock?" She smiles as she winks at him.

He chuckles and gives her another soft kiss. "Fire away, my Molly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending's a bit cheesy, but it's 2 AM and I'm tired. I hope people enjoyed the first chapter. I had to go back and fix a bunch of grammar mistakes over and over bc I'm me and I can't focus sometimes.
> 
> Aw well.

**Author's Note:**

> An idea I had because like others, I wasn't the biggest fan of series 4. Molly deserved more screen time and better coverage of her character. Plus, I see her as the type to be a freakishly strong woman. 
> 
> Stay tuned for part 2!


End file.
